


Enansal'Lin

by AnaChromystic



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, DA4, F/M, More angst, Papa!Solas, Post-Canon, Post-Trespasser, Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 07:17:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11732208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaChromystic/pseuds/AnaChromystic
Summary: Someone asked me to make a papa!Solas fic at some point.  This happened.  This is literally the angstiest Solavellan stuff I have ever written.  Which is fine, because we all like pain, right?This could be considered an AU ofWhen the World Fell, as it is the same Inquisitor.When the world has no further need of her, and the man she loves is her enemy, Ellana Lavellan brings to bear the only weapons she has against him.  The Inquisitor is about to make the greatest sacrifice of her life, more painful than the loss of her arm, more cruel than the loss of her heart.She will save him, and hopefully save countless lives...whatever the cost.It is war.





	Enansal'Lin

It had been foolish to bring her daughter to Orlais at all, though Josephine and Cullen restrained themselves from saying anything. Cullen, of course, because he doted on her almost embarrassingly, and Josephine because she knew how much Ellana depended upon her. The amount of work they had put into hiding the existence of the Inquisitor's daughter for two full years was staggering. The later stages of pregnancy had been particularly trying, though she'd felt quite well through all of it. In the end, she'd traveled to Ferelden for the last few months, ostensibly handling affairs in Crestwood.

Leliana had been invaluable throughout all of it. She was missed these days.

As far as the Inquisition, and the world was concerned, Asalin was the daughter of Ellana's maid. They had found someone who looked similar enough to pass the deception. At the time she had questioned the purpose of the lies, but now? Now she was intensely grateful.

How many spies had he placed within her ranks?

It was selfish, of course, to put so much dependence upon one small creature trying to learn the myriad things that went into being a person. Selfish to need her smiles, her laughter, the delicate words scattered among cheerful babble. The solemn eyes and the shy whispered secrets when she hid her face, too nervous with all the new people around.

They all wanted to see her, of course, but she didn't remember any of them. Too far apart. It'd upset Bull when she started crying at the sight of him. Luckily it hadn't lasted long, they had become fast friends. Her daughter had that effect on people. Effortlessly sweet.

It had been selfish to bring her, but these days it was only her that kept the pain at bay.

Or at least it had been. Now she didn't believe anything could help.

 

 

The dead Qunari lay at their feet, an eluvian ahead waiting, but she found herself hesitating. The throb, buzz and flicker of her hand made it difficult to think as it vibrated up the bones of her arm, setting her teeth on edge. It was killing her. There was no doubt about that, not now.

"Cassandra, please...I need you to promise me." She demanded as the Seeker finished aiding Dorian to his feet, both of them looking rather worse for the wear. "You have to promise me, if she shows magic...please take her to the clans. Please. Take her to my clan. I can't have her end up..."

"I...You will be fine, Ellana." Cassandra replied shortly, though her gaze was fixed on the crackling green tendrils of power as they spilled from her palm and wrapped around her nervously flexing fingers. "But...I understand. I will do as you say. No harm will come to her."

"We will make certain of it, my dear." Vivienne agreed calmly, and she was grateful now more than ever that they had come to an understanding. Respect, and friendship, all the more precious for being hard won.

She hadn't meant to insult the other woman, of course, but after seeing the templars up close, understanding just how dangerous it all was...she couldn't ever do that to her daughter. She could only hope that her daughter would not end up with the same curse as her father. Hard not to think of magic as a curse, when it was in the process of killing her.

"There's a letter in my things. For her. And one for Josephine. With...my wishes." The words were awkward, much like the sentiment, as she turned to face the eluvian. "All that I truly want is for her to be taken care of. Be loved. I have...I have to try and save him."

She could see the disapproval, especially from Vivienne, but she didn't care, not now. If she was hopeless, so be it. Her daughter was safe, and now she had to try and save her father. There was nothing left to say. A walk quickly turned into a jog, bow slapping against her back.

The eluvian rippled as she passed through it, the disorientation instantaneous. She ran forward a few steps, and then paused, breath catching in her throat. No one followed. She spun to face the mirror, staring blankly.

 

She was alone.

"We will help." The voice came from behind her and her heart froze in her chest.

Breathless, panicked, she turned to face Cole, eyes wide. It wasn't him that horrified her, though she hadn't known he was following, but what he held in his arms. Content, wide-eyed, and gnawing on her fingers. Asalin.

"No!" She shouted it, and then gentled her voice, hands trembling. "Cole, please, no. I know you think it will help, but it will not. I cannot put her in danger."

"He won't hurt her!" Cole protested, arms tightening. "He doesn't want to hurt anyone."

"I know. I know, Cole, but please." She begged, lifting both hands as she approached, feeling the crackle of the anchor. "Please, just set her down. She cannot be put in danger."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to help." The pained crack of his voice was quiet, as he crouched down and set the little one down. "He would want to see her. Knowing hurts, but it helps."

"I understand, but now is not the time. There is..." Eyes met his as she approached, her daughter already struggling to her feet. "I'm sorry, Cole, I know it's confusing."

"You want him to know her." He replied, quietly. "His eyes, your heart. She changes everything."

"She's only a child, Cole. What I want doesn't matter." Her attempt to grab Aslin was fended off with a little giggle. So independent these days, her daughter, and the laugh turned to a wail as she caught her, clutched her to her chest. "It's not her burden to bear. It's not..."

She'd only taken her eyes from him for a moment, and then he was gone, leaving her alone with the child. Panic now, she could hear something in the distance, but she was burdened with their daughter now, the last thing she had wanted in this moment. She couldn't blame Cole, he was right. It was what she had wanted, in some part of herself, but not like this. Not now.

"Love, stay here. Sit, please, da'vhenan, stay here." She begged frantically, settling the confused little girl down on the ground, ignoring the reaching hands. "Mamae will be right back, I promise you, you're safe. Just sit and stay, don't...move."

Solemn, wide blue eyes met hers as she rested a hand on her head, giving one last caress before straightening up. The shouting in Qunlat from behind her made her all the more afraid, but if it were a choice between protecting him or her daughter, she knew what it would be.

Panicked, she took a few steps away, and then glanced back again as a small hand caught the edge of her coat.

No, no, she couldn't leave her here alone. How could Cole have done this, put her in danger? Spinning back around once more and scooping up the little one, she cradled her to her shoulder, hand snapping dangerously, a warning. Being with her was a danger, being away from her was a danger, and what waited ahead was wholly unknown. Unknown and silent now.

Expectant silence, heavy.

No sounds of battle.

Either way, it seemed, something was waiting for her. She never held a single doubt that it wasn't him. And what he was...no. What he was didn't change who he was. He had told her before, that he couldn't lie and tell her it meant nothing, and she had to believe that now.

"Don't eat mamae's hair, Aslin." She reminded her daughter breathlessly, tearfully, and then began walking through the statues. Terrifying, those, the raw power it must have taken to do so.

For a moment she was concerned they would frighten Asalin, but all she did was reach for one as they stepped around it, declaring it 'pwitty'. Everything had been pretty lately, though, from Cullen's new dog to Leliana's very fancy hat. Andrastians and their headwear. She would never understand it.

Cursing her nervous, rambling mind, she forced herself to focus. Focus on what you can control. Don't think of your hand, don't think of the implications of it all, what he is, what...is happening. Just focus on what you can.

Another eluvian could be seen in the distance, and clutching her daughter tight, feeling the insistent crackle increasing warningly, she raced for it. The bouncing against her hip made the little one squeak in protest and cling tighter to her, but she couldn't stop now. Two years, two years without a single word, and now she knew why.

Ellana had entertained the idea that he had a good reason for his silence, or even that he hadn't had a reason at all. Neither one seemed quite right, but now she knew. She still did not think it was a good enough reason, though she understood why he had to separate himself. She had told herself a thousand times that she had moved on, that she would move on. That it was all over, and she had been left with an unexpected gift.

That the two of them were enough, together. Alone.

Her heart made a liar of her as she saw him, racing up the last stairs, the fierce ache only worse for the time spent apart. For a moment it eclipsed the pain of her arm, making her forget it until she remembered how to breathe.

She had gone still, as was he.

It was him, and it was not, ancient armor an artifice to put distance between them. Distance between him and the world. Every time she began to think again that she didn't know him at all, she reminded herself that thought was a lie. No, she knew him. Beyond the facade, the knowledge she had now, she only had to believe that what she knew of him was true.

It was all she had left to cling to.

He stood with his back to her, which was likely for the best, giving her a moment to gather her mind, her thoughts.

Small fingers twisted in her hair, bringing her braid up to gnaw on. It pulled her back to living.

"Solas." The word was tentative, worried. Was that ever truly his name? It was the only one she could bring herself to call him.

His face was distant as he turned, austere and calm, but she knew it for the mask that it was. She knew it because it cracked the instant he saw them. Eyes widened and met hers for a split second before they were drawn inevitably to the placid toddler eating her hair and staring at birds flying by as if it were the most ordinary of days.

The shocked silence was broken as the pain abruptly went from a nauseating throb to blinding, searing agony, and she fell to her knees, a choked cry escaping her lips. Even through the pain, she kept her grip on the little one, cradling her hand behind her head.

When the pain stopped, it was so abrupt that she nearly fainted, swaying in place. It was only the child in her arms that kept her from falling, both hands holding her close now as she wailed in fright.

"Shh...shh, da'vhenan. Mamae is all right." She whispered to her, pressing a kiss to a small pointed ear, all she could reach with the teary face hiding against her shoulder.

"That should give us more time." He offered quietly, and she gave a small, choked laugh.

"More time? Am I...do I have time left?" The question wasn't one she wanted to ask, there were a thousand more important, but right now, she couldn't think of a one.

"Yes, I can...yes." His voice faltered as well, the air heavy with things unsaid.

That was one weight off of her shoulders, the knowledge that at least something could be done. She should pry, but again, the needs of a small child won out.

It seemed neither of them could focus on why they were here, not with the pitiful, self-indulgent sobbing barely muffled by her shoulder. Eventually she sighed, and started patting her back. It was the only thing that helped sometimes, that or the promise of a sweet or her favourite toy.

"She's not upset any more, she's crying for the attention." She informed him dryly, without lifting her gaze. She couldn't meet his eyes. "She is _very_ emphatic. I blame it on having the entirety of the Inquisition wrapped around her finger."

"This is not how I anticipated...." His voice was baffled, and she wondered if it was only hope that insinuated that hint of wonder in his voice. "What is her name?"

"Asalin. Aslin." The use of her name roused the red-faced child from her shoulder, suspiciously clear eyes lifting to gaze up at her soberly. "Yes, da'vhenan, you. You have made things very complicated, haven't you?"

"Why would you bring her here? The danger..."

Eyes narrowing, she lifted her gaze. Oh, she agreed, of course she agreed, but what right did he have to chide her? Meeting his eyes, she them it fearlessly, jaw tightening. Yes, there he was, she could see it in the softening of his features, the slight chagrin and pain. It was only him, after all, armor and titles or no.

It was him, after all, who had told her the Dalish had made a mangle of thing, hadn't he? Who better to know than him? It had been a passing thought before, but now she knew it for the truth. The truth of who he was. The scope of it was staggering, too much to think about right now.

"I was not given a choice." She replied tartly, forcing her voice calm before continuing. "Cole was insistent that you meet your daughter."

The last two words settled with a heavy weight between them, said now and incapable of being unsaid. Truth, and acknowledgment of it, though one glance at solemn blue-grey eyes and a gracefully dimpled chin was evidence enough.

"She is...beautiful." Breathless, only for a moment, and then she felt him pull back.

Not only verbally, but physically, as he rose and paced away. Restless and agitated, his steps, and she was less concerned with it than she should have been. A small hand shoved at her cheek, and she sighed, arms relenting in their grip as her face was pushed to the side.

Now that she could walk, she insisted upon doing so at all times.

The uneven ground was a challenge for small, chubby legs, but Aslin made the best she could of it, pushing up and toddling away, leaving her on her knees.

"You're going to leave, aren't you?" The plaintive question shouldn't have been voiced, but it slipped past her lips unbidden, and she frantically tried to pull them back. "I should not have..."

"I must."

She sat back on her heels and watched him as he turned away again, hands clasping behind his back in the posture she knew so well. It suited him better now, out of the humble garments that he had worn before, but somehow this guise was less him than it had been. Perhaps that was only wishful thinking on her part. Dignity was shattered as Asalin caught up with him and grabbed at him.

He stalled uncertainly, glancing down to the toddler clinging to his leg, and then back at her.

"She does not care for strangers, normally." She somehow found the breath to mention, fighting back tears at the sight. "She met Dorian for the first time and tried to tear his mustache off his face."

"I..." His words stalled as he glanced down at her, the very beginnings of a smile fading.

Silence between them for a few moments, and she let it linger as the two stared at one another, her small and serious, him seeming more lost than ever to Ellana. She knew the feeling, that vast awe and wonder. She had felt the same herself when she had held the baby in her arms for the very first time.

He must have steeled himself for this, but some things there was no way to prepare for.

"So. You're Fen'Harel." She declared matter-of-factly, getting it out of the way. "Was Solas simply a convenient name?"

"I was Solas first. Fen'Harel came later." He replied quietly, hesitantly watching the child staring up at him. It was little surprise when she beamed a sunny smile at him, and again, she saw him almost return it before flinching away. "Please..."

"Aslin, come to mamae." She sighed, ignoring the pout. "Now, da'vhenan."

The temptation to refuse, to let her daughter pull down his walls with small, demanding fingers was there, but she knew she could not. There were things she needed to ask him, things she needed to know, and she could not risk that he would flee.

She had promised herself once in a letter he never received that she was a hunter, and she would find him. Now she had, but she could not strike the final blow. There was too much at stake, too much to risk that she would fail and he would escape, leaving her with nothing.

She would get what she could from him, and if he could save her life, that would be enough. There would be time enough to hunt him again, so long as they both lived.

His movements as they spoke were agitated, breaking through the surface calm from time to time. The more he spoke, the more questions he answered, the more certain she was. He had decided that this was something he had to do. She had very little hope of changing his mind. If anything, bringing Aslin here was a mistake, though well-intentioned on Cole's part. He was pulling further and further away with each passing moment.

Occupied in absorbing the vast, staggeringly disturbing story he was sharing, she let him keep his coldness, his blank expressions. There was simply too much. They...they had become unimportant, the people that they were at the heart of it.

This was not the story of Solas and Ellana. It never had been.

It was a thought she had lingered over before, the idea that her life no longer meant anything. It was the Inquisitor that mattered, not her. She may as well already be dead. It had been very dramatic, before, to think that she would save him, that whatever was happening could be stopped, fought. But she was too entangled now, and people were depending upon her. She felt very sorry that she could not give Aslin a father, and that she barely had a mother, but sometimes that was the price of war.

"I would tell you a thousand things if circumstances allowed it." She informed him quietly, when he fell silent at last, the buzzing in her hand beginning to grow again, unmarked arm holding their daughter tight. "I would ask to join you, I would ask you to stop. I would beg you to come home on my knees if I thought there was a hope of it. But you and I, we are things, are we not?"

He said nothing, turning away from her, and so she continued. He had spoken, after all, whatever small time left she had she would use. It hurt her to see how difficult this was for him, how far apart from her he had to pull. It must hurt him terribly to see Asalin.

"We are unimportant to the world, and no matter what happens, neither of us will be remembered for who we are, only what we are. But you...you are important to me, vhenan, and you always will be, no matter what comes." A faint sigh escaped her, and she shook her head, glancing down as her braid was tugged on, sadly meeting the small sunny smile. "You have me at a disadvantage now, but next time you may not, my love. I hope you know that I will stop you."

"I would...treasure the chance to be proven wrong again." He replied at last, quietly and with a vast distance still between them.

He had made it so far, after all, so that there would be no hope of crossing it.

"I know, vhenan." She murmured quietly, fighting back the pain as it rose. Panic in her voice, terror that she had come here now and it was already too late. "...Solas."

She had to live, not only for those depending on her, but for the last shred of her that was herself. The part that loved him, the part that needed to protect their child. Protect her because he could not.

"We are out of time." He told her, a hint of regret seeping into his hardened voice.

"If...if you write to her...if letters come, I will..."

It was all she could manage to get out before the pain took her over, trying in vain to stifle her cries as her daughter screamed in fright. She fell to her knees, desperately holding onto Aslin as she clutched at her hair, her armor, wishing she had the breath to comfort her. Wishing that there was comfort to be had.

In another world, perhaps, she would have plead with him then. The grip on her wrist would have taken her hand, a final farewell that was loving, not cold and distant. Perhaps he would have even been able to say goodbye to her properly, to let her see him one last time.

Instead he took the anchor from her ruined arm and fled, with nothing but a whispered apology to the child crying against her shoulder. She did not blame him for it, knowing the vastness of his guilt and sorrow. She only wished she had not added to it, in the end.

So many mistakes made. So much pain in her poor, wounded heart.

Sympathy did not mean she would let him free, when next they met. Wounds that deep left a trail for her to follow, and she had not come this far to let him go now. He was leaving blood behind him.

She could track blood.

"I am a hunter." She whispered to herself, promised herself, watching him pass through the eluvian and disappear again through the haze of tears. "And I will not let the wolf have you."

 

 

 

 

The first letter came in the spring when her daughter turned three years old.

It had come a day after a particularly sobering report, one that had kept her awake far into the night. She'd paced, restless, food and bed untouched. The maid that had replaced her old and trusted one had seemed to keep pace with her, as she'd been offered fresh tea four times before she finally fell asleep in the cup of her reading chair in front of the fire.

When she awoke it was waiting on her desk, separate from the correspondence from the agents and scouts. Thankfully just a simple letter, folded and sealed with wax. The fact that it was out of place was what alerted her, habit and nerves much more sharp than they had been before. She was sore when she unfolded herself, muscles aching and tense, a nasty crick in her neck threatening a headache.

Aslin still slept, curled into the bed she had not made it to, and she watched her quietly as her thumb slid open the letter, a hint of a smile on her lips.

The smile was still there, but died as her gaze shifted down, recognizing familiar handwriting.

He had written it himself.

The bed shifted as she settled down on the edge of it, staring, mind refusing to process the words. They blurred, swam together, and she realized as she jerked the paper out of harm's way that she was crying. The tears she indulged in for a few moments, and then set the paper aside and wiped her face dry, inhaling sharply.

The letter was not for her. Still, to see his writing at all...not limited to the small pile of old letters she kept herself from reading, hidden at the bottom of a drawer. It pained her to think that her daughter, like her, would only have them to remember him by. Then again, it was certainly better than nothing at all.

Her eyes were clear when she heard the door shift, and she silently folded the letter, resting her hand over it.

"Breakfast, my lady?" The maid asked quietly, remaining on the threshold.

Their eyes met, and she gently turned the letter over in her fingers, lips thinning into a line. Finally she sighed, and glanced down.

"You must not have gotten much rest yourself. Once you have brought the breakfast, take some rest for yourself." She replied quietly, tongue wetting her lower lip. "I...need you to understand something, however."

"Yes, my lady?" The question was tentative, nervous.

She must have known how much danger she was in. To be quite certain, Ellana knew it was selfish in the extreme to let her remain, but...

"I do not want to be forced to kill you. I would not want to, but I would." She informed the maid, lifting the letter in two fingers. "Do you know what this is, or did you only deliver it?"

"I only delivered it, my lady." The maid replied quietly, hands twisting at her waist. "I was told you would ask me. That is all I have been asked to do."

"Yet." She supplied, and received a small nod out of the corner of her vision. "And if I asked you to deliver anything in return?"

"I was told to burn it without reading it." The maid confirmed, in a quiet whisper. "I am sorry, my lady."

"I expected as much. Please continue to deliver any more letters. If you put my daughter in danger I assure you that you will regret it before you die. That is all."

It had been a long time since she had felt guilt over the harshness with which she was forced to act, but the way the girl's eyes widened in fear bothered her. She was harmless, which was why she had been given this job, after all. He would have known she'd never allow anyone dangerous close. And, if she knew him, she was truly harmless, and not just acting it.

When the door closed, she turned her attention to the letter, reading it over obsessively as she waited for their daughter to awaken. If she had been honest with herself, she would have admitted that she was hoping that some small crumb of it might be for her.

 

_Asalin,_

_I have heard that you are now three. I hope that you are growing well, and do not cause too much trouble for your mother. I am told that you enjoy planting flowers, though sometimes you forget to be gentle with them. It can be a difficult thing, to remember how fragile small things are, but that is also why it is so important to treat them with care. You have a duty to them, to treat them with kindness because they depend upon you like you depend upon your mother._

_If you are gentle with them, they will grow strong and beautiful, just as you will._

_I know this is a small letter, but I could not think of many things to say. I suppose that is all for the best, as you are still very small as well, da'len. Take very good care of your mother, and your flowers. I will try to write again._

 

 

 

 

"Imperator. Really. Imperator Lucianus Pertinax. That's even worse than Inquisitor. Congratulations Lucius, Tevinter wins 'most ridiculous' again." She remarked idly, the hulking man across the table giving an amused snort, shaking his head. "Orlais will be devastated by the news. This whole thing is a mess, you are well aware of that, aren't you?"

"Could be worse." Harding remarked under her breath, and then caught the stares cast her way. "No archdemons yet?"

"That's fair." Ellana allowed wryly, shaking her head. "Still plenty of time for that, I'm sure."

"We're doing our best, Lavellan, but the political situation is something you should..." Dorian started, and then sighed as she threw up her hands dismissively, turning away from the table. "Right, of course, how could I forget."

"I've had word from Magister Tilani, and I think that if we find a way to meet with her privately it might help a great deal." Pertinax intercepted smoothly, much to her satisfaction. He'd been stepping up more and more lately. "I'm sure we can make the arrangements with your help, Magister Pavus."

"It seems like you have it well in hand. Excellent. Excuse me, I have some letters to write." She demured mildly, rising to her feet and turning away, ignoring the glances cast back in her direction.

The hall was quiet as she paced out into it, still a bit dusty. Maids were low on the list of priorities, and they'd only just shifted bases again. It was a wonder they could get anything done at all, but Harding had been trained by the best. She was invaluable for keeping things together.

They were fighting a war on numerous fronts, after all, but one of those fronts concerned her far more than the others. Her sympathies were known, but only by old friends and Inquisition agents. She knew Dorian was following her as she left the room, and stifled a sigh as he reached for her arm. Ellana resisted until the heavy door closed completely, and then turned to face him, his expression worried in the dim light.

"Do you think I don't know what you're doing?" He asked, and she finally gave voice to the sigh, which only made his disapproval all the worse. "Do you really think you can weasel out of this so easily?"

"Weasel?!" She gasped, pretending offense enough that he almost smiled. "Dorian, I am not trying to avoid responsibility, I am trying to redirect it. There is a marked difference. Besides, you cannot tell me that he is not a far better figurehead than I would be. His title is very fancy, after all. Lest you forget, I am a heretic here."

"Pertinax is a former slave. Even if we can continue to somehow mask that fact, the truth of it is..."

"That I am far more of a liability." She finished, bluntly. "A Dalish, heretical abomination that the Black Divine and over half of the Magisterium would be happy to publicly execute, given the slightest provocation and if they could find me. Please, Dorian, tell me how I am a better figurehead for the public face of this farce."

"Is this about _him_?"

She appreciated the lowered voice, but not the implication, as it was completely true. Just not in the way Dorian was thinking, no doubt.

"I would think that if I were doing this to save him, Dorian, I would take more control, not less." She snapped, and then forced her voice to relax, calming. "I truly think this will be for the best. I am no leader. Without Josephine and Leliana..."

"You are underestimating yourself, I am fully aware of your capabilities, Lavellan...but I understand your point." He finally admitted, and then shook his head lightly. "With the Qunari situation..."

"It is even more important than before to consolidate power and get the Magisterium at least pretending to move in the same direction. Sack of cats." She finished, lifting a hand to slowly rub her forehead in circles. "Which cannot be done with me in a visible leadership role. I am going home to my daughter, Dorian, to my research and my maps and little pieces to push about."

"Is she...all right? Safe from him, and everything?"

The laugh that escaped her was full-throated and humorous, trying not to give in to the slight edge of hysteria. It was times like these she wished she believed in anything any more, because there was no one to hear her mental curses as she slapped a hand over her face.

"Safe from _him_? Dorian. My daughter's nursemaid is one of his people. The gardener at the quaint little estate you've tucked us in is one of his people. He has no less than three spies watching my every move at all times when I am there, and at least two of them who are there specifically to protect _her_." It never failed to amuse her, the constant underestimation, and how easy it was for every single person she'd ever met to forget about the elves underfoot every single day. "The only thing he doesn't do is listen in on my meetings or go through my correspondence, because he knows if he did I would have to start disposing of his people, and then he wouldn't be able to ensure his daughter's safety. I know that because my people are watching _his_."

He looked stunned through her speech, mouth opening for a moment before he closed it, sharply. She raised an eyebrow, waiting until he finally shook his head.

"I'm not certain what I expected." He admitted, meeting her wry smile with one of his own. "That does sound more like him than callously ignoring her, I suppose. That is to say if I really knew anything about him at all, which I was beginning to doubt."

"I never thought I would have to have spies watching the spies belonging to the father of my child." She groaned, and then leaned in to the pat on her shoulder, taking the comfort for a brief few seconds. "The only reason I haven't said anything before is because I didn't want anyone overreacting. We have it all worked out."

"Are you two...communicating, then?" Dorian asked her, cautiously. She didn't blame him, technically Solas was the enemy, after all. "You know how dangerous that is. If anyone else found out..."

"No. Not. Not a letter, not anything. Not even a single word." She meant to say it briskly, but she knew it hadn't come out so, because the hand on her shoulder tightened comfortingly. "He writes to her, but as anyone would write to a small child. No hidden messages, nothing secretive. He doesn't even sign them, or say who they are from."

Tears would do no good, she only shook her head and blinked them back, letting a faint smile touch her lips. If anyone would understand, it would be Dorian. No one else here really knew him, not like they had. Harding did a bit, but it wasn't quite the same.

"You will find a way to stop him." He told her quietly, and she glanced up at him, smiling wryly. "Knock some sense into the old man, drag him home."

"And perhaps the Qunari will get bored and go home, the Magisterium will suddenly outlaw slavery and blood magic, and we can all sit down for cakes and tea, Dorian." She responded tartly, rousing a small slyly cocked smile. "Just keep me abreast of developments in the viper pit. I'll let you know right away what I discover."

"Find that bloody key, would you? You certain you can't shake down any of his people lurking about the place?"

"I highly doubt he would assign anyone who knew anything of import to watch me. They probably don't even fully know why they're there." She sighed, voice a little wry. "I would be very surprised if anyone even knows she's his daughter."

"Good. Means he's _actually_ trying to protect her." Dorian replied firmly, giving her a pay on the shoulder again at her sigh. "Knowing that, Lavellan, I feel a little bit better about this foolish crusade of yours."

"That makes one of us, Dorian." She murmured as he turned and headed back in for what was no doubt a very long night, lifting her hand to rub her forehead.

The sooner she could get moving, the better. There was absolutely no time to waste, and her business here was concluded. She wanted to get home, back to her daughter. They had been spending far too much time apart as of late, and she didn't want to give him the impression that she wasn't looking after her. A strange dance they were engaged in, but he had been respectful so far. She would not want to give him cause to be otherwise.

It was difficult to think of saving Thedas in the dark and lonely nights. Oh, that was the goal, of course, that was never in doubt. But when it was hardest of all to keep fighting, it wasn't a faceless world she was thinking of, striving to save. It was Aslin...and it was Solas.

Selfish and contrary as it was to try and save the world for a man attempting to destroy it, it was what kept her from giving up. Maybe she wouldn't survive the attempt, but if they both did...that would be enough for her.

 

 

_Asalin,_

_Today I saw a small bird that made me think of you. Perhaps it was because it sang louder than any other bird in the trees, even though it was not very big. I have heard that you enjoy singing a great deal. I enjoy it as well, though I have not had much opportunity to do so in some time. I hope that you keep practicing and make wonderful music. I am also glad to hear that you are enjoying your new garden and its flowers._

_I know it was difficult to have to leave your home, but you were very brave. It is a big adventure for one so young, but you will be just fine, da'len. Your mother will return to you as soon as she can, and you will be very safe until then. I promise you that. You will always be safe. Please do your best to be good, and remember that you are loved very much._

_More than you may ever know._

 

 

 

 

"It's time to move on."

The night was hardly cold, but the words brought a chill to Ellana's chest as they sunk into place. She had known it might be coming, but she wasn't fully prepared. It seemed she would have no more time to try and become so. This was it, then. It was high handed enough to irritate her, even if she agreed with it.

"Is that an official order?" Annoyance seeped into her voice as she turned to observe the elderly elven man leaning against the doorframe. "Does he really think he is allowed to tell me where I can and cannot go?"

"No. But there's orders to move the child to safety if you won't take her." The gardener replied, sympathy in his eyes. "Be reasonable. Tevinter's getting too dangerous. An assassin made it all the way to the grounds last night."

"And you didn't _tell_ me?" She hissed, well aware of the unreasonable tone of her voice. Turning around, she paced restlessly across the room, fury over his high-handed orders making her hand clench. "I know. You do not answer to me. Damn it, Viram."

"He wants you to take her home." The gardener replied, mildly. "To the place in Orlais. I'm sorry, Ellana. It's time to step back and let things take their course. This isn't your war."

"Home. Home? He has the gall to..." Trailing off, she forced her voice calm, neutral again. "He's so good at manipulating things until I have no choice, isn't he? I could have you all killed. I could kill you all myself, one arm or no."

"Let the man do what needs to be done, Ellana. People need you alive. Your daughter needs you alive." Viram said easily, but with a hint of weariness in his voice. "Come now. No need to be difficult. That little girl needs you."

"I've always agreed to disagree with you, old man, but removing myself sounds an awful lot like agreeing with what he's doing." She retorted, trying not to sound as tired as she felt. "We have been over this, I am not changing my mind."

"Sometimes we have no choice." He replied quietly, turning to pace out again.

"And sometimes we do." She murmured under her breath, watching him depart, a hand tucking under her chin. "Well. It seems we're heading home."

It was time, ready or no.

Solas was going to be furious with her.

 

 

_Asalin,_

_I have heard that you must leave home again. It will be for the best. It can be very upsetting to leave everything behind, but I promise that what is waiting for you will make you very happy. Your new home is very nice, and quiet, far away from all the fuss that has been going on. You will have your mother, and new gardens to play in._

_I promised you before, and I will promise you again. You are safe, da_

 

 

The pen stilled, digging a blot onto the paper as the words sank in, the messenger at the door looking highly nervous. Not that he truly knew why he was here, but the reaction to his words no doubt was unexpected. He made no attempt to put the man at ease, tension remaining heavy in the air, portentous.

_The package leaving Tevinter for Orlais has gone missing._

"What do you mean by that?" It was difficult to restrain the sudden fury from his voice, anger surging instantly, followed quickly by fear and betrayal. He could see the man in the doorway take a half step back before rallying.

"The package was replaced, with a different one. I promise you, the deception was discovered less than an hour into the journey, but it was already too late." His anger was obviously confusing, concerning, but still he could not temper it. The messenger took another step back. "There...there was a letter, it has not been opened. Viram gave strict instructions that it not be opened until it came to you."

His hand extended across the desk was eyed nervously as the man approached, and he resisted the urge to violently snatch it as it was offered to his fingers. Accepting it, he gave a gesture of dismissal, already opening the letter.

It was from Ellana, of course it was. What had she done?

  
Where were they?

 

_Solas,_

_I'm sorry it had to come to this, I understand how important it has been for you to be somewhat in control. I know how important she has become to you, and I am grateful for all the effort you have made, despite how difficult this all is. Please don't think this is me putting her in danger, or trying to spite you and deny you your small place in her life. I am simply doing what has to be done. She is safe. I would write more, but I'm certain I would betray myself somehow, I have never been as good as you at hiding my intentions. I just need you to know one thing._

_You cannot run from me forever.  I will hunt you down._

_You have been warned._

_Ar lath ma, vhenan._

 

 

The sounds of fighting coming from up ahead filtered through the dusty evening-lit corridors of the crumbled building, distant but growing ever closer. They were resting to catch breath and survey the way ahead, in advance of the second wave of soldiers.

They'd done well in Tevinter so far, but not nearly well enough. Hopefully enough to stop whatever was afoot here in the Arlathan forest before turning back to face the Qunari. It was perhaps a bit too much to expect it was him, and yet...who else could it be? The corpses left behind were evidence enough that it was his forces. So many regrettable deaths.

But for what? What did his people seek here?

"No, Ellana, you can't be an active part in operations, too many people know your face." She remarked under her breath, wry and tired, back pressed to the ruined temple wall. "We have agents for this sort of thing, you stay back and let them handle it."

"I said I was sorry!" Lace hissed at her, irritated and fighting back a smile at the same time. "We thought we were doing what was best at the time. I don't know why all those people were after you."

"They had their reasons. I'm just glad I could catch up with you lot. I would have hated to kill them." She murmured under her breath, pushing up on her bow, hope surging. "They've gotten too far ahead. We need to hurry, Harding."

"Yes, ma'am." Harding agreed instantly, setting off ahead of her.

She'd given up months ago on getting them to stop pushing their way in front of her, but she was tired of it. The cumbersome arm that left her stump aching and raw was good enough to pull a bow, which was all she needed it for, really. She would not let anyone make her helpless.

  
Not again. Not when her plans were finally coming to fruition.

The Imperator was doing well enough, but if she knew him, he'd be making choices fast and loose. She hadn't come this damn far to find them barred at the very threshold. The deeper they wandered into this all, the more certain she was that she had to finish this. She was done hiding and poring over maps, done telling people where to go and pretending that pushing pieces around a table didn't mean they weren't dying.

She'd always hated directing armies. This. This was where she belonged, doing what little of worth she still could manage. It certainly wasn't the lack of an arm that hampered her, but politics and far too much meaning attached to her name and face. Things that had been useful once, turned into burdens.

She had become a burden.

_Finally._

 

 

They met the the leader of the small and sordid advance group in a massive antechamber that looked fairly intact apart from the creeping vines that clung wherever purchase could be found. He spun to face them, face set into hard lines that softened as he saw them, eyes turning accusingly on Harding.

"I don't want to hear it, Pertinax." Ellana snapped sharply as he opened his mouth. "I came here of my own volition, and I won't be coddled. Tired of sitting around doing nothing."

"Yes, Inquisitor." He snapped instantly, straightening up and turning away, striding off with his heavy-booted gait. "No one got past us, I promise you. If there's anyone in the interior chamber, they were already there. We found all the keys, just waiting on everyone to regroup."

"I'm going with you." She replied instantly, ignoring any protests that might be voiced. Striding past the looming former slave and his recalcitrant expression, she paced across the tiled floor.

Stares were coming from his gathered companions and the remnants of the soldiers that had breached this place, but she ignored them. Let them stare. It was impossible for her to hide who she was, it seemed, though half of everyone she met had the same question for her.

_Aren't you supposed to be dead?_

She wasn't sure where the bloody rumors had started. Leliana, probably, to try and keep her safe. The Divine should be worrying about more important things, in her opinion, than the life of one elf. No matter who they'd made her into once, that was all she was. She'd done everything she could to fight free of the shackles, and she could nearly breathe again. It'd taken a lot of work, a lot of time, and a lot of rumors and outright lies, but it was almost over.

They didn't need her any more. She wondered if Pertinax had any idea she'd been manipulating him since the second they freed him. He'd done well, better than she'd ever expected. Armies looking to him now, both the secret remnants of the Inquisiton and the open allies among the younger Magisters. He was doing well. Well enough to replace her wholly without anyone even noticing. She could just fade away.

Become a legend, let them erase her vallaslin and blunt her ears, until she suited their rhetoric.

Moving to face the door, she slung her bow over her back again and tucked her arm behind herself, lyrium-inlaid metal resting against the small of her back. An odd habit she'd picked up over the last few years, though in this case it did nothing to hide the prosthetic from the people lingering awkwardly behind her.

The style of the door she recognized with a distant nostalgia, almost bringing a smile to her lips. What her heart's people were here for, she didn't know, but she wasn't here for that. She was here for the small note tucked into her pocket, which had found its way into her things one night two weeks ago. Just before the orders had come to relocate.

It had been folded into the shape of star.

Curling the fingers of her hand into the pocket of her belt, slid it into her palm protectively, eyes closing. It was a slim hope, and it could very well be a trap. It was a risk she was willing to take, her life had lost its value to the cause, her existence more a trial than a help. Leliana's lies were evidence enough of that. Things hadn't been going terribly well for her heart either as of late, from what they could tell. Even if he was closer to his goal, every loss made it that much harder to attain those last few feet.

It was making him desperate, which she knew made him his most dangerous yet.

Silently she watched as they worked out the keys, Harding by her side and shooting her the occasional puzzled look. It was all she could do to keep a straight face, nervousness pounding in her chest, fingers crumpling the paper, palm damp.

If she was right...

When the doors swung open at last, she nearly wept in relief. A vast, empty chamber, statues spreading wings wide around the vaulted ceiling, all gazing down at a single eluvian in the back, resting atop a pedestal. Massive, this one, much like the one she had seen once in another temple, half of Thedas away. The Commander cursed and strode in, glancing about. She waited patiently as his people followed after, and spread out across the chamber.

"See if you can find anything, anything at all! Kaffas! I knew we needed to find that damn password before we came here!" He growled, heading off to an antechamber barely seen between the pillars to the left. "This is the closest we've gotten to one of these damn things, and we can't get through it!"

"You'd best go help them look." She suggested mildly to Harding, and then began to wander across the tiled floor.

The dwarven woman watched her for a few moments before heading off on her own at last, and Ellana let out a soundless sigh of relief. Her gaze lifted again to the eluvian, and she slowly approached it, nearly-bare feet soaking in the chill of the intricate, ancient flooring. She didn't have long before the rest of the soldiers arrived. If she was going to do anything at all, it had to be now.

Heart stalling in her chest, every nerve trembling with anticipation, she stopped before the eluvian and gazed into it. Lifting a hand slowly, she brushed fingers across its surface, and whispered the words that had been passed to her.

Who knew how many lives had been lost to get them to her?

The flicker as the mirror came to life under her hand was a relief, but it brought a new wave of panic. Letting out a heavy breath, she went from stillness to surging through, disoriented and blinded in that split second, barely hearing a faint cry from behind her. She saw nothing, but didn't stop as she passed through the mirror, getting as far away from it as she could in those seconds.

By the time her eyes had adjusted she was far along the path, turning around to face it, hair whipping around her face. She reached up to pull the end of her braid out of her mouth, breathing out in a shudder as the mirror went still again, leaving her alone. No one had managed to follow her, then. It was the best she could have hoped for.

"You came." The voice, breathless and full of hope had her spinning around again, eyes widening, pulse pounding.

They stared at one another for a moment, his pale eyes faded and wide, and then she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Awkwardly, he brought his up to do the same, giving her a pat on the shoulder. His hugs were a bit less solid and grounding than they used to be, but she was grateful for them all the same.

"Of course I came, Cole." She replied quietly, burying her face into his shoulder, broken laughter in her words. "What else could I do? Leave her with you? Thank you for doing this, I know how difficult it has been for you."

"It took so long. I'm sorry that it took so long to find the words." He replied, penitently sad. "He will not be happy to see you. It will hurt."

"I'm willing to risk it." She murmured softly, holding him all the tighter, fingers twisting in the back of his jacket. "We need to go home."

"I will take you to the place, but I musn't go any further. If he catches me, he will make me forget, and then I cannot help."

"I have brought a change of clothes, I will give up my arm and my bow. I will go quietly." She promised gently, with very little regret. It would be no great burden to give up the aching contraption, though she knew it was a mechanical marvel in its own right. The bloody thing just hurt. "No one will see me if I don't wish to be seen."

"My friend will help you in, but they cannot go with you."

"As long as they can get me past his wards, I will be fine." She promised, voice quiet and calm. Confidence she didn't feel. "We will be fine."

And, it was true. She would be. Or...she would be dead, or captured. She had considered simply walking in and letting herself be imprisoned to wait for him, but she couldn't take the risk that a public reunion would force his hand in a way he didn't want. It could make things awkward, and difficult for Aslin.

She knew him too well. He would do what had to be done, but he would never hurt their daughter.

Moving for the bundle sleeping quietly, she picked her up. Still small enough to carry with ease, though she was tall for her age. The only thing she would take with her.

The only thing she needed.

 

 

 

In another life, she had been a thief. A spy.

Some skills never truly left a person, only slept, waiting for fingertips and memory to need them again.

When she passed through the eluvian at the entrance to one of his safe havens buried deep in an impenetrable wood, there were no guards waiting. Still, she immediately slipped into cover, assessing the situation from it, feeling oddly exposed in her simple, worn garments. Just a lone woman, ancient and sun-browned waited, with a sly look in her eye and tattoos that folded into the wrinkles of her skin. The piercing gaze found her unerringly, and the woman patiently folded her hands behind her back. They eyed one another, warily and in silence, and then she grinned, broadly.

"There you are. You'll do, my girl." She decided firmly, and then peered a little closer. "That the little one?"

"Yes. She's had a sleeping draught." She agreed, somewhat cautiously. "Cole says that I can trust you?"

"Certainly can. More than anyone else at this moment in time. Try to look busy." The woman suggested, turning on her heel and heading off without further instruction. "We don't have long before the guards get back."

A sleeping child made for a decent excuse to move quietly and quickly, and it seemed her nameless guide was someone who no one felt they should bother. The halls were a wild mosaic of new and old pieces, ancient stones patched, floors a mix of careful masonry and rough and uneven pieces. The space was busy, but most she laid eyes on were people who had once been alienage elves, with a scant few Dalish among them. No ancient elves here, no soldiers other than the guards.

Was this where he kept the refugees that had joined them?

Eventually living chambers and storage gave way to a long hall that headed away from things. She paused briefly when the old woman lifted a hand to her, her sharp eyes staring down the corridor. It made Ellana wonder what the woman saw that escaped her notice.

"You won't have long. You'll have to make a run for it." The woman informed her, eyes narrowed as she stared down the hall. "I can't get rid of his wards, not those, no, but I can interrupt them for just a minute. You'll have to go at a run, and I can't promise he won't notice."

"I will not be able to get out?" She asked, trying to calculate the amount of food she had brought with them. She didn't require much, most of it could go to Aslin. If there was nothing in his chambers to be had, they would make do for a small while. A few weeks. "Well. That's a bit less ideal than I had anticipated."

"He's been gone long enough that you shouldn't be waiting too long." The old woman assured her, a bit dubiously. "Risk you're going to have to take, my girl."

"Right. Thank you." She replied, trying to avoid the impulse to pry about just why this woman had decided to betray him and help her. Cole had vouched for her, which was enough, but beyond that she knew nothing. "I am ready when you are."

"He's going to be stubborn. Do what you can for him." The woman ordered her, and then gesture to the hall. "Head up to that broken tile there, and go on my signal, then..."

She was about to respond when a small snatch of conversation echoed up from the way they had come from. No. There was no time to waste, not to pry, not even to get any more information. She'd wanted more time, but sadly, this was all she had now.

Curling her arm tightly around her daughter, she stepped into place. Heart racing, she was anticipating the hissed order, but not the small, tingling impact against her skin as the wards went down. With a shudder, she started running down the corridor, keeping her footsteps as light as possible, breath quick and shallow.

The corridor was briefly swallowed in darkness as it sloped downwards, but a green-tinted light up ahead summoned her, forced her to go just a little faster. Aslin's cheek bounced against her shoulder, her arm beginning to ache with the weight of her. Finally, at last she caught sight of the edges of the door, chest starting to ache. Slamming her shoulder into it, she awkwardly shifted the sleeping girl into the cup of her other remaining arm, fingers fumbling with the handle. Please let it be an easy one, please let it be unlocked.

One, but not the other. Cursing, using the door to support the heavy, sleeping child, she reached her hand up and picked a pair of pins out of her hair. A simple lock, at the very least, and any other time she might be amused with the mundanity of it. A locked door at the end of a heavily warded hallway. All right, Solas.

With one hand, lockpicking wasn't much more difficult than it had been once, considering how much she'd practiced it. Panic receded as she focused on the task, only a few seconds passing before she felt the lock shift, and the door opened at last under her hand.

She staggered through the door as her weight opened it, just in time as she felt the swell of magic behind her, making her skin prickle. Clutching Aslin with both arms now, she fought to keep her footing, turning around and slamming the door closed with a hip, collapsing against it while panting for breath. Eyes closed, she willed her breathing to return to normal, finally opening her eyes to survey the rooms she'd gone to so much trouble to install herself in.

It was not a surprise that from the inside they were not very extravagant. They were also not very tidy. He had a habit of filling up a table with work, arranging things just so to be studied and examined, and then moved on to the next table, where he did the same. It made for a lot of well-organized clutter, and a great many books and papers. The things here were odder and even more curious than the ones she remembered from his work at Skyhold, but she knew better than to disturb anything at all.

Ignoring the papers that no doubt held a wealth of information she could manipulate him with, she passed through the work room and his library to find the bedroom.

She doubted anyone would disturb his rooms while he was away.

 

It took two days for him to return.

 

 

 

She was curled up in a chair that she could tell was his, a little oversized, and worn a bit in spots. It was comfortable for reading, and she'd been doing a great deal of that. It was better than worrying, though the more she considered it all, the more peaceful she felt. As she'd suspected, no one had come in at all, the wards had been utterly undisturbed. Hopefully Solas would return soon. She'd have to start unwrapping her hoard of travel bread, which was just awful stuff. Anything else was being saved for Asalin.

At least she'd found his wine to wash it down with, if it came to it.

Perhaps they'd made themselves a bit at home, but they were home, to be fair, so the least she could do was act like it. This book was quite interesting, and pleasantly enough, she'd found some of them were in Elvhen. She did need the practice, and reading out loud to her daughter kept her calmer, when she wasn't insisting on doing it herself. She was starting to grow bored of reading and drawing. Ellana didn't blame her, but her daughter was surprisingly used to being carted to strange places.

It made her feel a bit guilty.

When she heard the outer door open at last, her heart jumped into her throat, but she forced her gaze to remain on the page. She was pretty sure she hadn't disturbed much, but the quick stride slowed as it approached the bedroom door, so she must have moved something obviously. Probably that book she'd been looking at yesterday, or the shelf Aslin had tried to climb. Then again, he could have simply sensed her. She had no way of knowing.

The door swung open at the corner of her vision, and she paused as he breathed in sharply. In that frozen silence, both of them waited, and she almost felt as if she could hear his heart beating as rapidly as hers. Finally a small, broken sound escaped the back of his throat, and the book tumbled off of her lap as she began to rise.

She never made it to her feet, as she began to unfold her legs he fell to the floor in front of her, head falling against her lap. The sound that left her lips was more sob than a laugh, and she curled herself around him protectively, hand resting against his back, cheek finding the top of his head as she sank back into the embrace of the chair.

"Vhenan..." she sighed, eyes closing and sending tears spilling down her cheek, following the curve of her nose. "I told you before. I am a hunter."

Anything else she might say was silenced as his head turned to the side and lifted, a hand capturing her jaw, holding her with a tension, desperation in fingers that trembled in a way she had never felt before. She met the kiss, slow but painfully hard, stealing the breath from her lungs. It hurt, but more for the agony she could feel in him than the force of it, even if it left her lips bruised.

The instant it broke he violently pulled back and rose, turning away from her, making her stagger forward as his weight was withdrawn. Unconsciously she lifted her hand, feeling the impression of his fingers on her cheek. He turned towards the door, movements agitated, fingers curled in towards his palms.

"You need to leave, now."

His voice was stone, hard and cold, but she could hear the cracking tension underneath. She wasn't frightened, though she knew he'd prefer if she was. It would make it easier if she would do as he said. She'd never done that, and she wasn't about to start now. If anything, it was him that was afraid right now.

"I will not. You could force me, but I will find a way to come back. You could kill me, if that is what you think you need to do. At least Aslin will be with you." She replied quietly, wetting her abused lips with the tip of her tongue.

She had no doubt her love was capable of it, she knew that he was. If it came to that, then she would accept it. She'd accepted it before she came here, and it sat within her with a rightness.

"I would rather die a thousand deaths at your hand than let them sacrifice me, Solas. Perhaps that's selfish, and I don't care. I would rather someone mourn my death than celebrate it."

"If you will not leave, you will force my hand." He declared coldly, which made her hurt for him. She had anticipated his pain, his struggle, but it still didn't please her. "There will be no negotiating this."

"Why? Why must your hand be forced? One way or another, my love, my heart, our time together is limited. Either let me live my last days in peace, or let me live your last days in peace." The words were blunt, far too much for his distant barriers, but she needed to have them said. "All I wish is to exist. I have freed myself as best I can from the shackles of their doctrine. They have a new leader, a proper hero for this great war, not a flawed, contrary thing like I am. Let me have my peace, Solas."

"Every time a report is sent in, there is a new account of your death." He wasn't looking at her now, but that didn't upset her. He was speaking, which was enough. "Hundreds of deaths you have died."

"Leliana and Harding are trying to keep us safe, I have become a liability...though they would not tell me so to my face. The Black Divine is not pleased with my existence." She admitted, dryly, "I expect with my disappearance you will receive another soon. I am dead, my love, let the dead have their peace."

"You are in that much danger? If you had gone to Orlais as I said..." Cautious, that question, and all it roused was bitter humor.

"I am in danger everywhere. There is no place in Thedas that is safe for me. I told you more than once, did I not? I never thought my fears wouldn't come true." Dry, fractured humor, which was all that kept her from crying some days. "I am a dead woman. If you kill me, at least the hands that end my life will be gentle. At least I will be remembered for myself."

His gaze shifted to the bed where Aslin slept, cheek smushed against the pillow, hair tumbled over her flushed face. She'd forgotten to bring a comb, and fingers only did so much with the mess. They both watched her breathe slowly, and eventually her lips curved up into a wistful smile.

"Five years old, almost. Can you believe it?" She asked quietly, and he exhaled loudly, a small stutter of breath. "She is very articulate and opinionated, to absolutely no one's surprise. Her reading is coming along well. She reads your letters by herself. She is learning Elvhen, she speaks it tolerably well. At least what I know of it."

"I...have heard." He admitted, and she gave a small, sarcastic snort. "I wonder that I am not more surprised to find you here."

"You were warned." She replied peacefully, leaning down to pick up the tumbled book, straightening a crumpled page and closing it neatly. "I do not make promises lightly, vhenan."

"I cannot..." He began, and then stalled, shoulders straightening.

A new weight added to them now, a cruel necessity she would not regret. He would have to face the consequences for his choices, like it or no. With her, or without her.

"I understand. Whatever choice you make, know that I love you." Setting the book aside, she tucked her feet back up under herself. "But if you intend to try and move me from this place, it will have to be by force. I think we would both prefer that she does not witness that, so I ask that you make sure she does not."

"I will not." He replied instantly, and she didn't even try to hide the small sigh of relief. "But if you attempt to leave these rooms I cannot ensure your safety."

It was more than she had anticipated, quite honestly. She hadn't expected him to be so quick to deny the idea. Rather than reassure her, it worried her a little. Too quick to agree might mean that later reflection would change his mind. She didn't really want to die, though she recognized it might happen.

"I understand, she will be bored, but we will find ways to be amused. We will need food." She replied placidly, not pushing at his distance. He needed it, and she would allow it for now. "She is especially fond of..."

"The small honeyed sweet cakes, I know. Someone will likely know how to make them." He replied, and she couldn't help the faint chuckle, though it nearly made him flinch, a minute tightening of his shoulders.

Silence lingered between them, and she saw his gaze fall to the small table Aslin had commandeered for her drawings. She took the moment to observe his face, the eyes hardened to hide emotion, but not the weariness that seemed to have taken over him. He was exhausted, in a way that couldn't be hidden from her. She knew that she had chosen the right time to come. Any later and it might have been _too_ late.

"She has been writing you letters in return since she has been capable of it. They are on your desk. I understand if you will not read them." She informed him quietly, as his eyes roved across messy charcoal stick people and smudged flowers. "All I brought with us were the letters, food, and some clothes and things for her. I understand if you need to ensure that is true."

"Thank you." Still cool, impersonal, but his gaze shifted towards the bed, and she could hear the pain break through the mask. "How could you do this to me? To her?"

"War makes us ruthless." She replied quietly, with sorrow but no regret. "Ir abelas, love."

"I am as well." He replied simply, and then was gone, turning and walking out into the other room with a quick, agitated stride.

She never heard the door open again, but she knew that he was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

Ellana was running out of ways to entertain Aslin.

Her bright, stubborn child was somewhat diverted by sweets and ample things to draw on, but her patience was running out. She needed to be able to run, dig in the dirt, and she was withering without sunshine.

They'd spent the evening folding pieces of paper into flowers to make a 'garden', and Solas' desk was covered in them. She knew he'd checked on them a few times, but more often than not she missed seeing him when he stepped in. Likely by design, some bit of magic to ensure she didn't rouse.

She had never been a heavy sleeper.

They had no defenses against him here, which was something of an attack all its own. He knew she was without them, something she generally avoided at all costs. It sat poorly with her. Worse than poorly, it felt like a form of surrender to give up her own agency...but she knew it was a weapon.

It was a weapon she would have to learn to use against him.

Helplessness.

The greatest weapon she had in such an underhanded and detestable form of combat was one she regretted using. Guilt to consider it, agony to acknowledge the necessity. She knew he would see it instantly for what it was, a vicious ploy...

But their daughter was the way through his armor.

His heart was too soft, too gentle under the shell of duty and regret. He had left a great opening, and by leaving them here, he had opened himself to an attack at that weak point she could not ignore. It was not a time for kindness.

It was war.

They had slept in the afternoon, something Aslin was too old for now. Waking her up quite early had made her amenable to a long nap in the heat of the day, thankfully. Ellana knew all too well that letting her nap meant she would be impossible to put to bed.

And so she had been, cajoling Ellana to sing with her winsomely sweet demands when they heard the far door open. A solemnly lifted finger to her lips had her daughter echoing the gesture, and they both fell into hushed silence.

It felt like some great betrayal that she had ensured that Aslin knew who her father was. At first it had only been the stories of a broken woman, sitting with her infant daughter in the rotunda he had painted, alone in the night when the pain became too much to bear. She had needed the connection as much as Aslin.

Papae, who had to go far away for some reason she never knew. It made it easier to speak of it, to acknowledge it, and by the time she learned who he truly was, it was just a story to fold into the things she whispered to Aslin at night.

It had never occurred to her to hide it from their daughter.

 

 

 

When the lights rose, she saw Aslin's attention shift over, eyes bright with something more interesting than mamae to explore. Ellana made no move to stop her as the little one wriggled off the bed, bare feet hitting the floor.

Her footsteps were near silent, a delicate patter across the stones, soft and stealthy. She could hear him move even louder than Aslin, as he began to go through one of his many worktables. Ellana had not touched his notes. Perhaps she would have to start.

"Papae?"

The door creaked open, momentarily blinding her as the sliver of light slashed across the bed. As her vision cleared,she could see the dark silhouette of her daughter, and Solas, caught at one of his desks, expression blank with shock.

The tiny question had stalled him in his search through the papers, and she heard his breath inhaled loudly in the sudden quiet. Ellana could see the tightening of his features, betrayal and pain quickly shuffled back behind a mask of calm.

"Was it your mother that told you that?" he asked quietly, setting down the papers in his hands with exaggerated calm.

"Papae I want to go ou'side," Aslin replied in her usual fashion, ignoring the questions asked of her to barrel on to her goal, "where's papae's flowers?"

"Go back to your mother, Aslin. You should be sleeping," Solas replied shortly, brusque enough that she found herself bristling a bit.

Instinct, the desire to protect their sweet little girl...but did she have the right? Did she have the right when she was using her like this?

"No," her daughter replied simply, "go outside?"

Aslin bridged the distance fearlessly, and it hurt her as he pulled himself up, nearly flinching when she grasped at his leg. It reminded her of the first time they had met, her beaming up at him, him cringing away. This time, however, he didn't beg Ellana to intervene. She couldn't imagine he didn't know she was watching.

"Please?" Aslin asked, and his expression melted.

The pain in his eyes hurt her deeply, but relief quickly overwhelmed it as he crouched down and picked up the little girl. Fearless her daughter was, happily clinging to his shoulder, though when he turned his gaze down to her, she frowned and lifted a hand.

Tiny fingers grazed his cheek, the corner of his mouth with a sober solemnity. She could see the tightening of muscles under his skin, the sudden tension.

"You sad?"

"Yes, da'vhenan. Sometimes I am sad, but I am glad that you are happy and safe," he replied gravely, reaching up and gently removing the small hand from his cheek, "I am sorry, it must be very dull for you here."

"Yes," Aslin agreed.

He laughed, the sound brief and heartbreaking, so achingly familiar. She blinked back tears, lips quirking into a smile as she watched his bitter-edged humor fade.

"I will see what I can do," he promised her as he lifted his hand to smooth it over her head, voice turning regretfully wistful, "...da'len, go to sleep."

It was no surprise when Aslin collapsed against him with a sigh, instantly relaxing. She knew all too well that he'd been using the same magic on her to keep her unaware of his comings and goings.

Rolling off of the bed, she paced across the room to his desk, perching on the edge of it. Her stomach was a mire of guilt and pain, but the thrill of victory kept the bile from the back of her throat.  Such a vicious triumph, so cold and cruel, but so...necessary.

As the light brightened, the shaft widening as he slipped in, she picked up one of the paper roses and twirled it in her fingers.  She watched the light flicker over the rumpled petals, watched him move out of the corner of her vision. He paused in the doorway, and then sighed quietly and crossed to the bed.

Neither of them said anything, as he cautiously tucked Aslin in. Once she was settled, he pulled the blanket up, and then paused. For a moment she thought he might actually kiss her good night, but it was a futile little hope. Instead his melancholic expression slowly turned hard.

When he spoke it was quiet, earlier softness gone.

"Ellana, our daughter is not a _weapon_."

His voice was frigid, barely restrained. She didn't think she'd ever heard him angry with her before, she noticed in a distant way, but she had heard that voice before. It was the dangerous one, the one that was holding his temper barely at bay.

And she had seen his temper before, in all its destructive fury.

"Everything is a weapon," she replied to him flatly, "use your pain, Solas. Harden your heart to a cutting edge."

"Don't..." he spat, and then she watched him try to force the anger back.

"Double standards, my love?" she asked him, and then sighed and gentled her voice. "I did not tell her you were her father. She's exceedingly clever. Also, lest you forget, Solas...you have covered walls with murals of yourself. Are you going to blame me now for trying to give her some connection to her father? For showing them to her?"

She saw the anger leave him as his shoulders stooped slightly, the fury behind his mask receding. Lifting a hand, she offered the paper rose to him, watching as his lowered gaze shifted to it. He had yet to look her in the face. There was no firm and zealous certainty in him now that made him able to gaze into her eyes.

Not now.

"If the world is to end for one of us, vhenan, I would not see it end with us apart," she told him quietly. "My motives are plain. Clear. I have nothing at all to hide from you."

"Clear, and poisonous to me," he replied flatly, "allowing you to stay is more than I should do. I was careless. You will not see me again."

"Plant flowers with your daughter, find pretty stones, draw together. Sing with her. Tell her stories and tuck her in to bed," she cajoled gently, "for her life will be better with you in it, however brief."

"You mean to steal my purpose from me."

"I mean to confront you with both sides of that purpose," she contradicted, "because I love you. If you are going to make this sacrifice, you should truly make it, and not hide from the consequences."

"You are cruel," he accused hollowly, shaking his head.

"I know. I have become something terrible, I fear. Just for an hour, love, lay down your burden. Kiss your daughter good night, make love to me, and then let me cry in your arms until you turn your back and leave us again."

It had not escaped her notice that his words were short, terse, each one an accusation. It was his conflict that made him angry. She knew how much Aslin meant to him, even if he would not say it himself. She knew how much he loved them both.  His face was in shadow now, but unmoving, mouth hard and straight.  Even his lack of expression was telling.

"She was unexpected, but such a gift," she sighed, when it became clear he would not answer her, "and I regret, so fiercely that I must use her against you like this. It is not her duty. War, though, my love...war does not care. I only wish you had been with us from the beginning, to truly understand it."

The rose fell from her fingertips as she gave up trying to make him take it, and he watched it fall to the floor. Habitually, her hand moved to clasp her opposite arm, rubbing fretfully at it as she spoke.

"Perhaps I should seduce you relentlessly," she remarked wryly, "and get with child again. Force you to confront what it is to be so helpless, so in awe, so tormented by guilt and love...from the very beginning. That, vhenan...that would be the ultimate cruelty."

"A pain I left you with," he acknowledged, voice cracking at the edges.

"Heal the wounds, love, and let the scars fade over time," she replied softly, fingers digging into her upper arm, "they will fade...if you could only try..."

"Go to bed, Ellana," he replied, in that same gutted, empty voice, "stop tormenting me, please."

"Come to bed, Solas," she said apologetically, "your family is waiting for you."

 

It was little surprise when, in the morning, that was the last thing she remembered...but least he had spoken to her.

 

It was a cold comfort.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> IDK. Pain. Here's what I have completed. I think some of this is new for old readers, at least! Unedited. Sorry!


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